The Dark Lust
by maniacalmuse
Summary: Another night, another strange and gruesome murder in Portland. Detective Edward Cullen is determined to solve this baffling case, but at what cost? What he finds could make or break ... him. AU/OOC/BxE. A collaboration with AngelGoddess1981. Rated M for coarse language and dark themes. ON HIATUS UNTIL FULLY WRITTEN/SHOULD RESUME POSTING SUMMER OF 2020
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Well, here we are on a brand new adventure! This story is a collaboration I began many years ago with my bestie, AngelGoddess1981, but we only got about half way through before life led us both elsewhere. I just needed a break from it all, and while I'm back in the fanfic world now, she has moved on to writing original fiction as A.D. Ryan. Check her _Blood Moon Legacy_ if you enjoy paranormal crime dramas such as this. It's one of my all-time favorites!

Much love and many thanks to PearlyFox for pre-reading, and for jumping up and down and showering me with encouragement every time I show her something new. She's the best cheerleader ever and I heart her very much! This and the next few chapters have been previously betaed by AG1981 and myself, but I have tweaked it here and there since then so any mistakes are 100% mine. I will be employing at least one more pre-reader and a new beta as I work my way through to new content, and I will express my gratitude to them when the time comes!

As always, respect to Stephenie Meyer for creating Twilight and its characters for me to play with. She owns all the original stuff, but all the fun new ideas here are mine and Ang's.

Alrighty, friends. Buckle up and prepare to experience . . .

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**THE DARK LUST**

**–** **Prologue –**

The night air was cool on Tyler Crowley's face as he left his friends at the sports bar and began his six-block walk home. It was much later than he would normally stay out on a work night, but he never could resist a good game on the big screen, especially when it was the playoffs. His team had won in overtime, putting him in a cheerful mood that was further enhanced by the many celebratory drinks currently circulating his body.

He turned a corner off the main drag onto the quieter, house-lined residential street which led to his small basement apartment. It wasn't much, but it was home, and even in his current victory and alcohol-fueled excitement, he looked forward to passing out on his musty old couch.

After he jerked off a couple of times, anyway.

Tyler would admit that a girlfriend would be nice . . . for the sex . . . but he really wasn't interested in all the drama that came along with one. Flowers and presents for ridiculous 'month anniversaries,' fancy dinners and sappy movies, meeting the parents, arguments about how he didn't actually mean she looked fat in those pants—he didn't want to deal with any of it. A bottle of lube and some girl-on-girl porn was all he needed to stay sated, along with the occasional tryst with a random, unnamed bar-slut of course. Yes, he was doing just fine on his own.

His cock was beginning to tingle, but he wasn't quite sure if it was from thinking about pussy or from needing to piss like a bear. Either way, he knew he wouldn't make it the four remaining blocks to his own grungy bathroom, so he stepped off the sidewalk to relieve himself behind some bushes.

Fallen leaves and crisp, dying grass crunched under Tyler's feet as he crept into the strangers' front yard, cautiously eyeing the older, unkempt house for any signs of life. There were none; the porch light was off and all the windows were dark, their heavy curtains closed tight. Satisfied that the thick, overgrown hedges hid him well enough from anyone who might pass by, he planted his feet and lowered his zipper, drunk and swaying slightly as he pulled his dick free.

Tyler sighed in relief when his stream hit the ground, standing with his head flopped back as he shook the last drops away. He started to put himself back into his pants, but at the same time couldn't help but notice how good it felt to hold his cock. Alcohol always made him horny, but something about the smell in the air tonight made him almost desperate for pleasure. He needed release—now.

Once again ensuring that no one might see, he allowed himself to tighten his grip, massaging his flaccid cock to attention. Within seconds he was hard as steel, pressure building in his groin as he stroked himself rhythmically. Up, squeeze, down . . . up, squeeze, down. Tyler clenched his teeth so as not to make a sound as his movements became faster and more hectic, the warmth of climax radiating into his dick as his cum prepared to release.

Any second now. Three . . . two . . . one . . .

A twig snapped behind him and a young woman giggled softly, the shock of discovery causing Tyler's orgasm to flee back into the depths of his loins. _How did they find me?_ he thought frantically. _I made sure no one was around._ He dropped his cock in panic, letting it flop pathetically into the air, slowly slackening against his zipper as he stood there panting nervously.

The seconds ticked on, and he knew he had to do something—but what? Distressed and mortified, Tyler stuffed his shrunken dick into his pants, hastily zipping them up and securing his silver belt buckle. Another giggle sounded, this time to his right, its higher pitch making his stomach lurch sickeningly; there was more than one of them.

Gathering all the courage he could, Tyler turned to face his unwanted spectators, determined to make the best of this horrifying situation. All the breath left his lungs as his gaze fell upon the three impossibly gorgeous women before him. They appeared to be his age, lean and fit but still shapely, with pale skin so smooth it looked like silk. Their faces were stunningly beautiful, but it was their eyes—eerily menacing and a color he didn't even know existed—that truly had him captivated. He couldn't stop from gawking blatantly.

The one in the middle, a long-haired brunette, cocked her head to the side as she stared at him, a sly smile curving onto her deep red lips. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to interrupt," she said teasingly. Her voice danced and shimmered almost inhumanly, ringing around him like a choir of bells. "Please. Don't let us stop you from . . . finishing."

Tyler just stared at her dumbly.

"Ooh, maybe he needs some help," the girl on the brunette's right, a stunning blonde, suggested with an excited glint in her already bright eyes. "I call dibs!"

The final of the three, her hair a wild mess of fiery red curls, giggled in a high-pitched, girlish lilt. Tyler recognized it as the second laugh he'd heard when they first approached. It gave him the chills; there was something deeply more menacing about it than the other girl's. "Don't be greedy, now. He's cute. We can share . . ."

A tickle crawled up Tyler's back, though he wasn't quite sure if it was from fright or desire. These two hotter-than-the-sun chicks wanted to . . . to . . . _help_ him? Help him get off? No. No, surely he must have misunderstood.

"Awww," the blonde girl whined. "They've only got one really good scream in them, though. I never get it all to myself." Her full pink lips turned down in a pout while her eyes remained on him hungrily.

_Hungrily._ The word echoed through Tyler's head as realization dawned on him. That was exactly how he would describe the look they all wore: hungry . . . insatiably hungry. But for what?

The redhead sighed dramatically, waving her hand dismissively at him. "_Fiiiiine_ . . . he's all yours. Just don't get too carried away. You already pigged out back at the house. Hardly left anything for the rest of us."

Tyler gaped at her in confusion. He still hadn't said a word. They were taking so cryptically; he had no idea what was going on.

His heart beat faster as the blonde girl approached, her eyes alight with excitement. She licked her lips as she looked him over, her roving gaze finally settling on his mouth. "Mmm," she hummed softly, and then she leaned into him, her tongue trailing an icy path up his cheek.

Tyler shivered from head to toe, only this time he knew his chills weren't from lust. The air around him was suddenly _freezing_, as if he had been magically transported to the South Pole. Even stranger was that the cold seemed to be coming off this girl—she radiated it like an ice statue.

He shuddered visibly, the tremor making his knees want to give out as he sucked in a shaky breath. The blonde appeared to like that. "What's the matter, honey?" she purred into his ear, her icy breath bringing goosebumps to his neck. "You're not afraid, are you?"

Her hand slid down his chest, stopping below his belt and cupping his surprisingly hard cock. Tyler had no idea how he had been able to get erect under these circumstances. Honestly, he really _was_ beginning to get freaked the fuck out.

"Ooh!" the blonde exclaimed as her fingers moved over the stiff bulge in his pants. "Cute, and well equipped, too!" The other two women snickered and Tyler's gaze jumped to them. He had almost forgotten they were there.

He tried to snort cockily at the reference to his sizable dick, but all that came out was a wimpy-sounding cough. All three of them laughed this time, making him feel as big a pussy as he must have looked.

"U-um," he was finally able to stammer. "I don't know what you think I . . . what you want . . . but I should get home. I have to work . . . early . . ." His voice trailed off as the brunette raised one eyebrow, her lips twitching with suppressed amusement. Tyler shuddered again. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were playing with him—like a cat toys with a dead bird before eating it.

Swallowing thickly and trying to quell his now-raging fear, he took a step back and made to duck around the blonde. She was in front of him again before he even blinked. "Now just where do you think you're going?" Her voice was light and teasing, but her eyes were starting to darken, making her look unnaturally dangerous.

Tyler wanted to run but had the sick feeling that she wouldn't allow him to, and found himself rooted where he stood. "I . . . uh . . . home?" was all he could say. He was starting to wonder if he'd actually made it to his apartment and was now passed out, having a seriously fucked-up dream. This bizarre situation resembled a bad horror movie; it couldn't possibly be real.

"Home?" she repeated with a mischievous giggle. "Sugar, why would you leave when the fun's just beginning?"

He had no response for that question. Before tonight Tyler never would have imagined a situation where he'd want to flee from three gorgeous, sexy, seemingly horny chicks who it appeared planned to have their wicked way with him—but here he was. This wasn't at all how he'd ever dreamed of this happening, though. Something about these strange and ethereal women wasn't right. He had a bad, bad feeling about just what they had in mind.

"I . . . I . . . I . . ."

The fiery redhead sighed in exasperation. "Okay, already. He's starting to wig and I'm getting bored. Can we just get this done and go find something else to do?" She nudged the brunette at her side. "Come on, make her hurry up."

The brunette hadn't said a word since she'd addressed Tyler when they first appeared, but now she nodded to her blonde accomplice, whose hand had somehow come to grip the side of Tyler's neck. He could barely breathe. "Let's go," the dark-haired beauty said simply.

The blonde turned back to Tyler in disappointment, obviously not done with whatever game she was playing, but acquiescing to her leader anyway. His stomach lurched when their eyes met; hers were now black as a moonless night sky. Nothing good could come of the way she was looking at him. Her gaze was ravenous . . . merciless . . . deadly.

In a flash the other two women were there, flanking his sides and each gripping an arm painfully.

"P-p-please," he whimpered. "I just want to go home. Please . . ."

"I love it when they beg," someone whispered huskily, but fear was beginning to cloud Tyler's senses and he wasn't sure which woman it came from. It might have been the redhead.

"Go on," another voice said, and this time he knew it was the brunette. He would never forget her eerily melodious sound. "You found him. You can have the prize."

Confusion and terror consumed Tyler. He had no idea what they were talking about, but of one thing he was dreadfully certain: _he was about to die_.

"Mmmmm, thank you." That was the blonde, still holding his neck too tightly. Her cold breath tickled his cheek as she brought her face to the exposed side of his throat, inhaling deeply before lifting her lips to his ear. "It's been fun, sugar," she whispered.

Tyler had exactly one second to let her ominous words sink in before he was overcome by a sharp pain on his neck. The pain went deep, waves of fire licking through his flesh and into his blood, hot enough to set his insides boiling. He wanted to scream from the sheer agony of it, but much to his dismay his voice was nowhere to be found. Instead, he began to struggle futilely.

In an instant he was on the ground, his back pressed heavily to the dry grass and fallen leaves by the woman now straddling his hips, her mouth not once leaving his throat. Stunned into dizziness, Tyler just lay there helplessly, barely noticing his arms were also restrained until each was punctured by a set of razor-like teeth. Again he was met with a thick, fiery ache where their mouths punctured his skin, but to his surprise he also realized that the pain radiating from his neck had turned to a cool fluttering, like a gentle waterfall flowing through him instead of a burning river of lava.

He felt . . . _wonderful_—carefree and relaxed, as if he were floating on a cloud in a bright blue sky. He closed his eyes, allowing the euphoria to seep in and take him away, completely forgetting who and where he was. Tyler floated along easily, his body becoming lighter with every second that passed and his mind sinking further into the heavenly abyss. He wasn't dying, he thought happily, he was being set free.

Time passed as Tyler lazed blissfully on his cloud—days, minutes, seconds; he didn't really know. A warm breeze picked up, caressing his skin and slowly seeping into his bones. He sighed in contentment and welcomed the pleasant warmth, urging it deeper, but then suddenly it wasn't warm anymore. It was hot—much too hot.

His eyes snapped open and he locked gazes with the blonde, who at some point had released his neck and was now sitting up, watching him. Her blood-stained lips curved into a sneer as she recognized the panic on his face. She knew what he was feeling: horror, terror, and that violent burn, and she reveled in watching his anguish. Her dark malevolence frightened Tyler more than anything else.

He found his voice, his piercing scream echoing off the weathered house whose lawn he was about to die on. Apparently this was all she was waiting for. With a satisfied smirk, her hands whipped to his neck, and the last thing Tyler saw before the loud crack sounded were her bright, excited eyes.

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**A/N:** So . . . questions? Like who are these badass bitches, and just what kind of trouble are they going to be for Portland's top detective? Add this story/me to your alerts and start getting some answers next Monday! Reviews are sweeter than sugar! XO


	2. Chapter One

**A/N:** I am beyond overwhelmed by the response to this story after posting the Prologue! Just wow. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and put this story on alert so far! We are so excited to have you here on this adventure with us!

Speaking of _we_ . . . Good news, everybody! AngelGoddess1981 has decided to return to the world of fanfic and finish up this story with me! So much yay! I can't even properly express how thrilled I am for us to be writing together again. Please join me in welcoming her back!

Love to our pre-readers, PearlyFox and twimom1960!

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**THE DARK LUST**

**–** **Chapter One –**

Edward was angry.

More than angry . . . he was _livid_.

There were fourteen unsolved murder files on his desk, each one occurring within the last three weeks. It was obvious there was a serial killer on the loose, but that was not at all unfamiliar or unusual in a city this size. What _was_ different was that Edward didn't have a single lead on any of them. Not a witness, not a hair, not a fingerprint—nothing. All he had were a whole lot of dead bodies, and at the rate things were going, there was likely to be more as the days went on.

Serial murderers were Edward's specialty. In fact, as much as he hated every single life lost to such atrocity, he couldn't deny that finally capturing the sick bastards and bringing them to justice was what he relished most about his job. He loved the satisfaction of knowing that the citizens of Portland were that much safer thanks to his unyielding determination; he never, _ever_ gave up. Some went so far as to say he was stubborn, but to Edward it was more than that. He might not know them all personally, but these were his _people_, and he would be damned if he wasn't going to protect every last one of them to the bitter end.

That fact alone was likely why this newest string of deaths was bothering him so much. He had nothing to go on—_nothing_—which meant that one by one, he was letting his people down.

He growled in frustration, slamming shut the too-thin manila folder for the city's latest victim. Edward was a well-conditioned member of the Force, having served ten years as a beat officer before accepting a promotion to Detective four years ago, and he'd seen some of the worst humanity had to offer. But _this_—this was a whole new level of evil for him. The savage monstrosity of it all . . . he couldn't stand to look at the gruesome pictures any longer.

Each new body they found was the same: neck broken, heavy bruising to the arms and torso, strange puncture marks in at least three areas, and worst of all . . . the corpses were all completely drained of blood. It was such a disgusting sight that the responding officer had usually vomited at least once by the time Edward arrived on the scene. The stench of death, the slackened, sallow skin hanging loosely from the skeleton's limbs, the sunken, hollowed eyes and cheeks—it was enough to turn even the strongest of stomachs. But what really brought the hot, burning bile to Edward's throat was the coroner's horrific finding after every autopsy: the victim was still alive when the murderer began to bleed them.

It was like a horror movie taking place in his own back yard. The sicko had to be stopped. Edward couldn't—_wouldn't—_just sit by idly and wait for the killer to leave something for them to find. He would be proactive; he would make them come to _him_.

Shoe treads squeaking against the shiny, tiled floor, he hurried down the corridor to the last door on the left and knocked sharply.

"Yes?"

Edward stepped into the cluttered, dimly-lit office and nodded in respect. "Commander Swan."

"Cullen. Make it quick. I have a meeting five minutes ago and it will take me ten to get there."

"Yes, sir. It's about . . ." Edward hesitated, hating the vile alias the media had bestowed on this killer, but he had nothing better to use in a pinch. The name dripped off his tongue like poison. "The Bleeder."

The grey-haired, yet still tough-as-steel man looked up from his paper-strewn desk for the first time since being interrupted, meeting Edward's gaze with a hard-eyed stare. Charlie was utterly frustrated with this baffling case as well. Whoever this blood-stealing freak was, he was doing a damn good job of making the East Precinct look like one big horse's ass. Any potential—well, anything—was enough to draw the commander's immediate attention.

"What about him?"

"We still have nothing," Edward began, making the other man scowl deeply; this was not the news he had been hoping for. "But I have an idea to potentially draw the killer out of hiding."

Charlie regarded his top detective with a mixture of intrigue and annoyance. Edward was damn good at what he did, and any ideas he had were always worth considering, but the commander hated games. Still, he couldn't very well turn away any ploys that might get them one step ahead of the Bleeder, not when the chief was breathing fire down Charlie's neck to get this asshole behind bars. The department's name was so deep in mud they'd be drowning in it if this went on too much longer. Portland's citizens needed to feel confident in the P.D.'s ability to keep them safe, and right now the people had about as much faith in the police as they did a cage of shit-slinging monkeys.

"Okay, Cullen. Let's hear it." The commander said gruffly, glancing at his watch. "You have one minute."

Edward didn't waste a beat. "It's a simple plan, really. Basically we lie through our teeth and hope it's enough to throw him off his game—get him to make a mistake. And when he does, we'll be there to make sure it's his last."

Charlie eyed Edward skeptically. "That's simple, all right. What makes you think it'll be enough to pull this fucker's plug?"

"The Bleeder is meticulous. Nothing is ever out of place when he's done with a victim. If we can make him believe that we've got something on him, that we're on his trail and closing in, it could break his confidence and cause him to act recklessly. If he gets careless, he just might leave something behind for us."

The commander's eyes narrowed as he regarded the detective. If anyone but Edward had come to him with an idea this ridiculously inane he'd have thrown them out on their head. But something about the easy confidence Edward appeared to have in his own plan made Charlie pause and consider. Cullen had yet to let him down, and with the fuck-all they had to go on so far, they really did need to jumpstart some leads.

The older man sighed. "Okay, do it. But watch your ass in the process. The last thing I need is to be made to look like a dick by the likes of you. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Edward replied quickly. He hadn't been totally sure that his superior would get on board with this plan. Getting the go-ahead was a nod to the trust his commander had in him, something that Edward didn't take lightly. He wouldn't let Charlie down; he would make sure he brought home results.

He would solve this case, even if it killed him.

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**A/N:** Hellooooo, Detective! Let us know what you think of his plan to deal with the Bleeder ;)

For pictures, teasers, and other story/fandom related fun, join me on Facebook: Mani Muse, or follow my blog at www . maniacalmusewrites . wordpress . com.

See you all next week!

XO, muse & Ang


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: **Thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! We're just tickled that so many people are interested in and enjoying this dark little tale!

Love to PearlyFox for pre-reading, and to Fran for betaing!

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**THE DARK LUST**

**–** **Chapter Two –**

The room Bella sat in was dark, save for the glowing flicker of the television as Kate flipped quickly through the channels, not even bothering to see what was on each one before going onto the next. It was the same routine day after day after day.

Not that there was anything wrong with the routine—the routine was _fun_. More than fun actually, because Bella had two of the best girlfriends to run wild with. The three of them didn't follow any rules or care about the consequences of their actions. They did what they wanted, when they wanted to, and they didn't answer to anyone.

Bella looked around the oversized living room from where she sat in a plush leather armchair. It wasn't to her own personal tastes, but the space was charming enough. The walls were painted a soft cream color, and adorned with luxurious paintings in ornate gold frames. Here and there, on various shelves and tables, were framed photographs with smiling faces that brought distant, pleasant memories to her mind, and Bella couldn't help but let the corners of her lips twist up to mirror the happy expressions in the family portraits.

She had her own kind of family, though, and she wouldn't trade it for anything.

Her coven had arrived in Portland a few months ago, and already they were enjoying all the city had to offer. It hadn't taken long to find a place they could call home and even less time to make it theirs, each room already holding a special kind of memory that only the three of them could truly appreciate.

"I'm bored," Kate complained from the couch, pulling Bella from her silent reverie. Kate was a sweet little thing, still fairly young and inexperienced, but really coming into her own since Bella and Victoria had taken her under their wing and showed her how to truly live.

And live they did.

Bella and Victoria had been tight since they were practically newborns, closer than sisters and bound by something stronger than DNA. Lust—for fun, for pleasure, for _life._ They went everywhere together, traveling the world and stirring up trouble wherever they landed. They seduced countless men, and sometimes women, leaving lifeless shells in their wake before they moved onto the next . . . and the next, and the next . . .

When they first happened upon Kate in Denali, Alaska, Bella and Victoria had found her on the streets, weak and starving. Seeing something fierce in her big blue eyes, they took pity on the young woman and offered her a second chance—one she was more than willing to accept. Kate was a survivor and held the same thirst for excitement Bella and Victoria both did. If they believed in such things, they'd have thought it to be destiny that brought them to Denali, not just their hunger for thrill and excitement.

Turning her attention to the blonde as she threw her head back on the couch, Bella rolled her eyes and laughed. "How can you possibly be bored?" she demanded playfully. "There's satellite, more game stations than a fucking arcade . . ." She paused, knowing exactly how Kate was feeling; it wasn't boredom, per se, she just hated being cooped up. Bella did, too. Reminding Kate of all the luxuries they had acquired was the only thing Bella could think of that might distract her until it was time for them to head out for another wild night on the town.

Shrugging, Kate flicked the channel again. "I don't know, I just am." She threw her body down onto the couch, sprawling lengthwise from one arm to the other. "I'm hungry, too."

"Aw, Katie-bear. Don't worry," a soft voice purred as it entered the room behind Bella. "I ordered in."

Bella turned to find Victoria leaning against the doorframe, inspecting her black-painted fingernails. Her long, curly red hair hung loose down her back and over her shoulders, and her deep pink lips were twisted up into a mischievous smirk. "Ordered in?" Bella asked. "I thought we decided we were eating out again tonight . . ."

"Yeah, I know," Victoria said with a shrug, pushing off the doorframe and walking gracefully to the couch, where she lifted Kate's legs and slid beneath them. Without a word of warning, she snatched the remote from Kate's hands and changed the channel to the six o'clock news.

"Hey!" Kate protested, sitting up to take it back, only causing Victoria to shove her playfully back down and hold the remote just out of reach.

"What did you order?" Bella questioned further, watching as they struggled playfully over the remote. It wasn't new for the two of them to act this way; they were always goading one another on in everything they did. Even Bella got involved from time to time. It made things a little more entertaining, sometimes even competitive. And who didn't like a healthy dose of competition every now and then?

"Pizza!" Victoria cried out through her laughter while Kate growled, pouncing forward and pinning Victoria to the couch as she tried to regain control of the TV.

The smile fell from Bella's face, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ugh. I thought we agreed never to order from that place again, V. It took hours to completely rid my system of the taste." A tremor rocked Bella's body as she remembered that night quite vividly, her empty stomach now lurching in protest. "The only time I intend to order from a pizzeria again is when we find ourselves back in Italy." Closing her eyes, Bella sighed nostalgically as she recalled the rich smells and flavors of Italy, her mind reeling with sharp, perfect memories. "Everything always tastes better in Italy."

"Aha!" Kate cried triumphantly when she snatched the remote back, completely ignoring Bella and Victoria's discussion.

Grumbling over her loss, Victoria pushed herself back up and smoothed her fiery red hair. "Well, I knew Kate would probably be feeling a little peckish before we hit up the town. She's not too fussy about her pre-dinner snacks."

"You guys know I'm sitting right_ exactly_ here, don't you?" Kate said, shooting a quick glare in Bella and Victoria's direction as she tucked her legs back up under her body and prepared to resume her channel surfing.

Suddenly, a smooth male voice filled the room, drawing Bella's attention to the television. Cocking her head to the side, she took in the man on the screen, standing behind a podium and speaking into a sea of microphones. His bronze hair was a disheveled mess and his eyes were an intense shade of green, with deep, dark circles beneath them from an apparent lack of sleep.

"_In light of the most recent death here in Port—"_ he began, and then he was gone, bright, colorful cartoon images replacing him for a second before they, too, disappeared.

"Kate!" Bella cried. "Go back!"

Groaning, Kate complied. "The news is boring," she complained to herself, tossing the remote on the couch and crossing her arms in front of her as she pouted.

Bella leaned forward in her chair, resting her forearms on her knees as she watched the television intensely. The words '_Detective Edward Cullen, Portland Police Department'_ graced the bottom left corner of the screen as flashbulbs went off, illuminating him while he spoke.

"_Detective, are there any leads?"_ one reporter asked, and Bella's eyes widened as the detective turned a hard stare to the inquisitor. It was a valid question, one Bella herself was quite interested in hearing the answer to.

The detective held himself straight and rigid as he responded, his sharp gaze tracking around the group of eagerly awaiting faces. _"Up until recently, the department was unable to come up with anything concrete. However, we are now positive that this recent string of homicides is the work of one individual, and we will find this person."_

Bella found it interesting how this detective seemed so confident—almost cocky—when speaking of the case. She knew very well the police had absolutely nothing to go on, and yet this 'Edward Cullen' exuded an air of brash confidence in their situation nonetheless. How intriguing. She leaned forward and watched the detective carefully.

"_Do you have any suspects?"_ another reporter asked. Bella's grin widened, and her eyes brightened with curiosity.

"_We are currently working on a few leads based on several pieces of evidence we discovered on or around the last victim."_

Kate gasped and looked to her leader for a reaction, but Bella only laughed. "He's _lying_," she said with a smirk. The detective was good, she'd give him that, but thanks to high-definition television and her precision vampire sight, she had seen the slight increase in the pulse at his neck, the enlargement of his pupils as he delivered a rehearsed line. Good, but not quite good enough.

"_Our condolences go out to the families who have been affected by the acts of this individual, but know that we will bring this monster in to pay for the crimes he has committed," _he said with a surprising amount of conviction in his voice. Though entirely on the wrong trail, it was almost as though he were challenging the person he was after—baiting and trying to lure them in. The corners of Bella's mouth twisted up into a sinister smirk at the thought.

"_For now, we ask you, the citizens of Portland and those visiting our beautiful city, to be careful when walking the streets. From what we can tell, the attacks all happen at night. So, if you have to go out, please don't go alone. It would be ideal to refrain from going out after dark at all, if possible."_

Bella laughed, breaking the girls' silence as they sat and listened to the TV. "So, they want to play games, do they?" She turned to Kate and Victoria, who were watching her intently, waiting to hear what it was they were going to do about this. "Well," Bella continued, the doorbell ringing through the house and interrupting her for just a moment. "I'd hate to disappoint the Portland P.D., wouldn't you girls? I think I feel a change of plans coming on." Bella walked over to the door, the living room still in plain sight, and opened it. "But first . . ." She offered the delivery boy her most dazzling smile, his reaction infusing the air with a burst of pheromones. "The snack has arrived."

"That'll be twenty-th—" The boy dropped the pizza to the ground before he could even finish telling them how much the delivery would cost. It had taken less than a millisecond for both Kate and Victoria to pull him into the house and attach themselves to either side of his neck. Bella watched over the two women proudly as the boy finally stopped struggling against their unbreakable hold, his gurgling screams fading as they severed his vocal cords completely.

"B, aren't you going to eat?" Victoria asked, her lips glistening with a deep-red stain as Kate continued to feed.

Smirking menacingly, Bella nodded once. The tangy smell of fresh blood filled her nostrils, making her her throat burn and a flood of venom fill her mouth as she fought the urge to join in on the shared meal. "Oh, I will, but not from him. I've got bigger game in mind."

A satisfying crack of bone sounded through the room before the delivery boy's body slumped to the floor, his heart no longer beating as there was nothing left to be pumped through his veins. Kate and Victoria used the tips of their fingers to gather any blood that had trickled from the corners of their mouths, licking them clean while they awaited Bella's next instructions.

"All right, then . . ." Bella announced, looking back and forth between her girls. "Who's ready to go out and have a little fun?"

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**A/N:** Keep the thoughts and theories coming, friends! We absolutely love hearing them all!

If you haven't yet, come join the party in my Facebook group! There's stories, pictures, teasers, and all kinds of fanfic fun happening there. Search 'maniacalmuse twilight fanfiction' on FB and you should find me, or click the link here on my FFn profile!

Otherwise, we'll see you with Chapter Three next week!

XO,

muse & Ang


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: **Hello, friends! Here we are with Chapter Three. We hope you enjoy it!

Love to PearlyFox for pre-reading, and to Fran for betaing!

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**THE DARK LUST**

**–** **Chapter Three –**

Spots from flashbulbs blurred Edward's vision as he walked back into the station, and no matter how much he blinked, they just wouldn't go away. It was done, though, that was the important thing, and the press ate up every single word. He could only hope that the killer caught the show and took the bait, because it was the only chance they stood to catch this sick bastard.

The mountain of files for the Bleeder case came into view as Edward rounded the corner into the main office. He groaned. So many bodies and not one single fucking clue; it was beyond frustrating.

"Hey, Cullen!"

Edward turned his head to the right to see one of his colleagues, Detective Newton, stand up.

"Good job out there, man. Think it'll work?"

"It has to," Edward grumbled, pulling his chair out roughly and sinking into the chaos of his desk. "Until then, I guess all I can do is continue to comb through this stack of files until I find something to go off of."

Newton looked at him with empathy. Edward wasn't the only one working his ass off on this case. The entire department had been pulling double-duty in order to find the freak-show who was wreaking havoc on their city. "We'll find this fucker before he strikes again, man."

"Cullen!" Commander Swan's voice boomed from behind Edward. "We have a one-eight-seven. Couple of hikers found a body just off the trails near Forest Park."

Dread coursed through Edward's body as he turned to find the commander standing at the near end of the corridor. "The Bleeder?"

"'Fraid it might be. Crime scene and the coroner are on their way there now. You'll meet them there," the commander instructed forcefully before turning abruptly and marching back to his office.

With a dejected sigh, Edward stood, grabbed his car keys, and walked briskly toward the exit. He wasn't surprised when he stepped out into the cool air to be met with a wall of bodies and a mass of questions. It had only been ten minutes since the press conference ended, and vultures that they were, they'd likely be out there for hours, hoping to pick up any scraps they could find.

Pushing his way through the crowd proved to be trying; microphones were being thrust in his face, begging for more answers—answers he just didn't have at the moment—and he found himself repeating, "No comment," until he finally broke free and rushed across the lot to his car.

It didn't take long once Edward arrived at the scene to get confirmation of the Bleeder's involvement. As expected, the body had been fully exsanguinated, and his lifeless eyes were clouded, staring directly into the sky. The Crime Scene Unit was there already, walking their grid and taking pictures of anything they deemed out of place. He knew they wouldn't find anything, though.

Near one of the cruisers, Edward spotted a young couple staring vacantly ahead. He knew what they were feeling without having to ask; he'd felt the same damn thing when he saw the first victim.

And the second and the third . . .

"Hi, Detective Cullen with the Portland P.D.," he greeted, approaching them slowly so as not to startle them in their seemingly fragile state.

"Uh," the man stammered, blinking several times to shake the fog of shock from his head. "I'm Emmett McCarty, and this is my girlfriend, Rosalie Hale." The burly man tightened his grip on his girlfriend when she tugged on the front of his shirt fearfully.

"Are you the folks that found the body?" Edward asked. They both nodded, their eyes still staring at the grotesque form lying less than twenty feet away. "Did you happen to see or hear anything unusual when you came across it? Anything at all . . ."

Rosalie shook her head, several tears that had been stinging her eyes for the last hour finally falling down her cheeks. "Wh—who would do such a thing?"

Edward shook his head, trying to keep his frustration in check. He couldn't be upsetting these people more than they already were. "We're working on it, miss. In the meantime, why don't you go with Officer Mallory here and fill out a report down at the station. Your help would be greatly appreciated."

With a slight nod, Emmett wrapped his arm around Rosalie's waist, gently leading her to a waiting cruiser and helping her climb in. Once the car had pulled away from the scene, Edward took a deep breath and headed toward the latest victim.

"What's the word?" he asked the M.E., kneeling down beside her as she scrutinized the ghastly corpse.

Angela Weber was Portland's number one Medical Examiner. It seemed silly to rank them, but it was true, and when this case became a serial investigation, they had to get the best. Angela had a keen eye unmatched by any other in her field, and she was more than thorough in her work. Unfortunately, even her attention to detail hadn't been enough to bag this son of a bitch yet.

With an aggravated sigh, Angela turned her head to Edward, noting the deep lines and dark circles that now framed his eyes. Nodding, she spoke. "It was our guy—and it was recent. The body couldn't have been here more than an hour before it was found, and drained within that time, at least. His M.O. remains the same, though: several deep incisions to vital arteries, allowing him to bleed out until his heart stopped. And his neck has been broken as well, likely done post-mortem."

Frustrated and confused, Edward looked around. "Then where's the blood?"

Angela gaped at him, perplexed because she knew he was expecting there to be none. "Detective, you know that we've nev—"

Edward cut her off. "Exactly. We've never found even a trace of it. Why not? It's not just because this is a secondary crime scene. The human body has what—approximately ten pints of blood? Where is it, and how does one empty an entire body in less than an hour?"

Angela stared at Edward, silenced by his questions. It was something everyone was wondering. At first, they had thought that there was likely a primary scene and they were only finding the bodies where the perpetrator was dumping them, but they'd scoured the city and found no signs of another crime scene. Surely, with that much blood being taken from the victims, someone would notice _something_.

As Edward scanned the body, cringing when his eyes briefly roamed over the two deep lacerations on either side of the neck, he found something much more interesting. Leaning in, he focused on the shirt the victim wore. The royal blue fabric clashed against the pallid complexion of the man on the ground, but he would recognize it anywhere. On the left breast of the shirt was a small logo . . . for Domino's Pizza.

"Holy shit," Edward gasped aloud. For the first time since this nightmare started, he might have actually found their first lead.

Standing quickly, Edward reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone to type in a search. He was going to find every Domino's location within a twenty-mile radius, and if nothing solid came from it, he would expand the range even further. With a dozen addresses programmed into his phone, he headed out to track this fucker down.

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**A/N:** Ooh, a lead! Who's excited to see just where it takes him? ;)

Have a great week, everyone!

XO,

muse & Ang


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